


Baby It's Cold Outside

by eternaleponine



Series: Love In Inappropriate Places [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baby It's Cold Outside, Christmas Tree, Clexmas (The 100), Clexmas 2020, Clexmas20, Episode: s03e04 Children of Earth - Day 4, F/F, Public Sex, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28238694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: Clarke and Lexa attend their city's annual holiday fair and Christmas tree lighting.  When Clarke temporarily misplaces her gloves (again) she has some... creative ideas about how to warm them up.For Clexmas 2020 - Day 4: Baby It's Cold Outside
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: Love In Inappropriate Places [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1352764
Comments: 28
Kudos: 183





	Baby It's Cold Outside

Clarke cupped her hands in front of her mouth and blew on them, trying to restore feeling to her fingertips. When Lexa glanced over, Clarke quickly dropped them... but it was too late. She'd already seen.

"Did you lose your gloves _again_?" she asked. 

"'Lost' is a strong word," Clarke said. "I prefer to think of it as 'temporarily misplaced'. I'm sure they'll turn up at some point." 

Lexa snorted. "Just like your last pair? And the pair before that? And that's just this year, and it's only December!" There was no judgment in her voice, only amusement, and she fished around her in pockets and extracted her own gloves, offering them to Clarke.

Clarke shook her head. "I might lose them," she said.

"Suit yourself," Lexa said. She put the gloves back in her pockets, then reached out and took Clarke's hand, lacing their fingers together before tucking them, still joined, in her pocket. "Somewhere, in some other universe, there is a dragon gleefully sitting on its hoard, which is made up entirely of gloves that you have 'temporarily misplaced.'" 

Clarke laughed. How could she do anything but laugh? "You're ridiculous," she said. 

"You love it," Lexa countered.

"I love _you_ ," Clarke replied. 

Lexa's smile, and her fingers tightening around Clarke's just for a moment, were answer enough. 

They found Luna's booth amongst the rows and rows of craftspeople and artists flogging their wares, hoping the passersby were looking for homemade gifts to give for the holidays and not just browsing. 

"How's business?" Lexa asked. 

Luna held up her hand, which was steady now, and her skin had a warm, healthy glow, and tipped it side-to-side. "Could be better," she said. "Could be worse. Lots of people have taken cards." Which didn't necessarily mean anything, sales-wise, Clarke knew, but if even one or two reached out or visited her online shop, it might put a few extra dollars in Luna's pocket. 

"Your work really is beautiful," Clarke said, picking up a plate and examining the glaze. She'd never worked with clay much herself, and it had been a while since she'd done anything other than idly doodle in the margins of agendas at meetings, but when she'd learned Luna was a potter, it had rekindled that artistic itch in the back of her brain. Now that she was done with med school and internships, she might even have time...

"Thank you," Luna said. "Is there anything in particular that catches your eye?" 

Clarke started to demur, to assure her that it was all amazing – and it was – but she knew what it was like to want feedback – to crave it – and to instead receive reassurance, as if your ego couldn't take even the vaguest hint that one thing might be slightly better than another. So she took a step back, trying to take the display in as a whole, and see where her eye was drawn. 

After a moment she honed in on a mug that were glazed a splattery ombre of blues and picked it up. "This one," she said. She noticed a few others that were similar and pointed those out as well. "I haven't seen anything like these before." 

Luna smiled. "That's a technique I've been experimenting with," she said. She got up from her seat and came around the table, and together they did a little rearranging to bring them more to the fore. When they finished, Luna nodded. "You have a good eye," she said. 

"Thanks," Clarke said. "If they don't sell by the end of the night..." She raised her eyebrows, letting the implication that she would be happy to find a good home for them hang between them for a moment before grinning so Luna knew it was only a joke. 

"They'll sell," Lexa said. "Although we should probably get out of the way so paying customers can get to the table." She smiled and gave Luna a quick hug, and they moved along down the row, stopping when something caught their eye to take a closer look... and a few times, to take out their wallets and hand over cash or a card when they found something they knew one of their friends or family would love. 

When they finally got to the end of the last row, their arms were heavy with bags, and their wallets much lighter, but Clarke had ticked off a good portion of her holiday shopping list so she couldn't complain. "It's like Etsy Live," she said. 

" _Now_ who's ridiculous?" Lexa teased. She fished out her keys and they made their way to her car to drop off their purchases so they didn't have to carry them around for the rest of the night. Clarke took the opportunity to check the passenger's seat to see if maybe her gloves had fallen out of her pockets in the car, but no such luck. (If she was being honest, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had them. She just hadn't gotten around to replacing them yet.) 

"What time is the tree lighting?" Lexa asked.

"Seven thirty," Clarke said. She glanced at her wrist. "We still have a while."

"How long's a while?" Lexa asked. 

"Forty-five minutes," Clarke said. "Less if we want to get a good spot." 

"Enough time to get cocoa?" Lexa asked, tucking her keys away and holding out her hand again.

"Definitely enough time for that," Clarke said.

* * *

The line for hot chocolate had been longer than they'd expected, and by the time they got to the tree, crowds had already formed all the way around it. Lexa had never been terribly keen on being crushed in between the bodies of strangers, so they'd finally decided to park themselves a little farther away. It was a big tree, and they would be able to see it fine from a distance. It wasn't as if they would be able to make out any fine details anyway, even if they were closer. All anyone was going to see at this time of day – or night – was the lights. 

As the minutes ticked by, the temperature continued to drop, and Lexa found herself shifting her weight from foot to foot, trying to keep her blood circulating. No tree, no matter how spectacular – and apparently this was supposed to be one of the finest in the state – was worth getting frostbite for. She pulled out her phone to check the time – still almost ten minutes – and felt Clarke pressed up against her back.

"Are you using me as a windbreak?" Lexa asked. 

"Would I do that?" Clarke asked in return.

Lexa laughed. "Yes. You absolutely would do that," she said. 

"Then why did you bother asking?" She felt Clarke push herself up on her toes, trying to get at some tiny patch of skin to kiss, but Lexa had left nothing exposed, at least that Clarke could reach from that angle. When Clarke didn't give up, Lexa turned her head so she could reach her cheek.

Lexa jerked, almost jumping out of her skin, when icy fingers wormed their way under all her layers and pressed into her skin. "Clarke!" she gasped. "What are you—"

"My hands are cold," she said simply. "You're warm." 

She _was_ warm – at least part of her was – and getting warmer as Clarke's fingers crept lower, edging down under her waistband and not stopping their descent even when they reached the snarl of curls that were already beginning to soak with her arousal.

"Clarke!" she hissed again. "You can't—"

But she could. Obviously she could, because she was... and Lexa was doing nothing to stop her. Even though she knew she should. Even though there were people close enough to see and hear, if they chose to look or listen. 

And Clarke's fingers were still like ice as they parted Lexa's folds, drawing up through molten heat to slick her clit, but as blood rushed downward, flooding the area and offering searing heat for her to dip into, they thawed steadily until the coolness of the touch was a pleasant counterpoint to Lexa's throbbing desire.

"Fuck, _Clarke_!" Lexa groaned, sure that she was going to fall over at any second, because with every stroke of Clarke's finger over her clit, a jolt went through her that made her knees buckle. But there was nothing to grab onto, nothing to hold her up except Clarke. 

Someone glanced over at them, and Lexa realized the expletive had come out louder than she intended, but she just grimaced a smile and they turned away again, shaking their heads, having apparently not noticed anything was amiss. 

Clarke withdrew one hand from Lexa's pants, instead sliding it up under her shirt. At first Lexa thought she might just keep her palm pressed to Lexa's chest to help steady her... but she should have known better. Her nipples had already been stiffened by the cold, and Clarke seemed to be determined to get them to the point where they could be used to cut glass. Lexa sucked back a whimper as Clarke slid her left hand farther between her legs, driving her fingers into her and dragging Lexa's hips back against her own so that no matter how she moved and squirmed, she was grinding against Clarke's hand. 

Around them, people began to count down, chanting, "Five... four... three... two..."

Lexa missed the moment the lights of the tree came on, because her eyes had shut tight as climax claimed her.

* * *

They sat on the grass, even though the cold of the ground seeped through their pants and numbed their asses, because Lexa insisted that there was no way she could walk a single step. 

"Isn't the tree beautiful?" Clarke teased, turning to look at Lexa over her shoulder from her place between her legs. She knew Lexa had missed the lighting, because she'd felt her clamp down around her fingers just as the countdown reached one, and when Lexa came, she couldn't never manage to keep her eyes open. 

"Hmph," Lexa grumbled, working her face between Clarke's scarf and her neck and nipping at the tender skin there. 

"You love it," Clarke said softly, rubbing her hands up and down Lexa's shins. 

"I love _you_ ," Lexa said, still grumbling, but Clarke could hear the smile in her voice. 

"Same thing," Clarke said. 

"Hmph," Lexa said again, her breath gusting against Clarke's throat, sending goosebumps racing along her skin. She could feel Lexa's hands at her chest, loosening her scarf to give her better access, and Clarke tipped her head to the side as she began trailing kisses from just below her ear to just above her collarbone, her tongue flicking out to lap at the tender flesh... and then a sharper sensation as she sucked the skin. 

"Don't—" Clarke started to say, but fuck it, who cared? That's what scarves were for, right? And she could wear a turtleneck or something under her scrubs. The hospital was cold enough that no one would question it... probably. 

And anyone who had met Lexa – had seen the two of them together – ought to know better than to ask. 

She groaned, tipping her head back farther to fall against Lexa's shoulder as Lexa raked short nails over the material of Clarke's pants – flannel-lined leggings she'd taken from Lexa's drawer because they were the most comfortable option they had for cold weather – and began to draw slow, lazy circles just where the seams met. 

Clarke strained up against the barely-there touch, but Lexa pulled away with a soft tsking sound, and Clarke relaxed back against her, reaching back to hook her neck and twisting her head around to kiss her. Lexa nipped at her lips, and their tongues tangled, before Clarke had to turn away again to keep from getting a crick in her neck. 

Lexa's free hand slid under Clarke's coat... but over her shirt, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples through the material, mimicking what Clarke had done to her almost exactly but... not, clearly still punishing her for her earlier transgression in the most infuriatingly exquisite way possible. 

The park emptied out, until the only people left were the artists packing up shop in the distance, and still, Lexa teased her. Every time Clarke thought Lexa might relent, might finally give her the relief she was, by this point, completely desperate for, Lexa pulled back just as Clarke was getting close to the edge. 

"Please," she begged, arching back against Lexa as she moved her hand away again. Tears beaded in her lashes as she writhed. "Please, Lex, I can't!" 

"Can't what?" Lexa asked, so calm, like she wasn't fully aware of the state Clarke was in, the agony of arousal she'd inflicted on her. 

"Can't take it anymore!" Clarke groaned. "I need to come. Please. _Please._ "

"Hmm..." Lexa's lips vibrated against Clarke's skin. "Since you asked so nicely..." 

Her fingers brushed over the material of the leggings, which had completely soaked through now, creating an oddly stimulating mix of cold and heat, one last time, then crept under the waistband, and under the elastic of Clarke's panties, and the explosion was almost instant when they finally reached her clit... but of course Lexa didn't stop there. She didn't stop until Clarke was curled against her, wrung-out and spent, her face pressed into the curve of Lexa's neck as tears of relief soaked her collar.

"What are you two doing?" Luna asked. "I thought you would have gone home by now!" 

"Just waiting for you," Lexa said easily. She eased Clarke out of her arms and stood up, offering Clarke her hands. Clarke hoped Luna would write off her stumbling gait as a side-effect of sitting on the ground for so long. 

Luna shivered. "Let's go," she said. "It's freezing out here, and Clarke doesn't even have gloves!"

"Huh," Clarke said, with a quick glance at Lexa. "I must have dropped them somewhere."

"Blame the dragon," Lexa added, fighting back a smile as she took Clarke's hand and laced their fingers together, tucking it into her pocket along with her own.


End file.
